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andre nickatina - girls say (remix) lyrics
(oh, baby, baby, baby, oooooooh jack, jack
oh, baby, baby, baby, oooooooh jack, jack)
[verse 1: andre nickatina]
the homie said…
now we can chunk ’em like rocky if ya c-cky when you knock me
do it ’til we sloppy or at least until you drop me
nicky back at you like star 6-9
on the grind, on ya mind and i’m runnin’ outta time
you know that bay bridge heart kid run through my veins
hang with me, bird, let me pocket everythang
’cause my 3-10 shoes they don’t leave no clues
i bucka break the law, but i f-cka follows through. holla back
my cartier is savoir-faire
i was born round, i could never die square
it’s like that…
[verse 2: the jacka]
turn up the knock, 7-7 box
hit the mini mansion, pretty black boy countin’ guaps
semi-automatic c-cked ’cause i don’t trust that n-gg-
smoking purple so i’m calm though a known cap peeler
eyes low gone, i’m a stone crack dealer
surrounded by monsters like mike jack thriller
ride around strapped ’cause i might jack n-gg-s
smokin’ purple like a m-th-f-cking nut
you see a small bank in the cuts hold it up
’cause a n-gg- like me done snorted hop to get high
fell in love with it, had to stop ‘fore i die
young n-gg- early ’90s pushin’ rocks so i’m fly
every day, early mornin’ stackin’ paper, gettin’ high
dre dog in the deck with respect like pac, n-gg-
i let my tape rock ’til my tape pop
[verse 3: andre nickatina]
i got a lifetime ghetto p-ss; is the money gonna last?
highway patrol say i drive too fast
but i’m a bankroll holder, ayatollah, blow a quota
but i know you want my picture in your photo motorola
in my leather hat, man, i let my curls hang out
we talking sh-t down where the girls hang out
the homie said he’s good with the weapons
and when it comes to b-tches and the clothes he’s the freshest
i think you get the message
it’s b-tter on the breakfast, toast
and i’ll squeeze like a steak if you get too close
i bucka bounce f-cka fly with the flames
and pucka pucka party with my life in the game
you know it’s all the same
[verse 4: the jacka]
the yay area, yeah boy, that’s where i’m from
pushed enough c-ke to have the whole world numb
attempt to distribute, first case i won
break a kick down, sniff away the things i’ve done
smoke a zip or two a day, boy, my memory’s done
remember n-gg-s injuries from the squeeze of a gun
inhalin’ trees in my lungs, pushin’ v’s to the slums
been through so much sh-t they can’t believe that i’m young
eyes tight like jet lee, i believe i’m the one
subhanahu wa ta’ala i believe is the one
without a blood test, i can’t believe that’s my son
i’m just a hustler on the run every day bendin’ corners
hoes pullin’ up on us, i’m letting out the smoke
pullin’ on a strong one, scr-ped out, hyphy, on one
muh f-cka, all that sh-t
return a hardball naid is all i wish
pasta and fish is a mobster’s dish
we was blessed with the recipe, searching for the rest of me
blinded by the light, going on ecstasy
if it wasn’t for this gangsta sh-t i wonder where the west would be
world war 3, don’t wanna die, stand next to me
(jack
oh, baby, baby,baby, oooooooh)
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